Lord, when did those bitter roots take hold
of my heart, my mind, my tongue, my soul?
Why did I allow those roots to grow?
Lord, when did I plant the bitter seeds
of pride and arrogance which truly needs
my nurturing to produce vile weeds?
Lord, why did I sow such hurt and pain
allowing them to be watered by toxic rain?
What does my bitterness expect to gain?
Lord, why did these old jealousies sprout?
Why didn't I yank the bitter roots out
instead of allowing them to be blown about?
Lord, plow up the garden that I did sow
with its seeds of discord, its seeds of woe.
Destroy the bitter roots which did grow.
Lord, take this wretched, futile land
enriching its soil with nutrients again.
Revive it with your healing hand.
Lord, in my life please plant the seeds
which will produce sweet fruit indeed
instead of bitter roots and weeds.
Lord, may those bitter roots never again take hold
of my heart, my mind, my tongue, my soul.
May they be destroyed before they grow.
Lord, in my heart's garden may it be known
for its grace and mercy that You have sown,
where the sweetness of your love has grown.
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